MO. Lab
Add: No. 12-2, Lane 57, Section 2 Minzu Road, Tainan
台南市中西區民族路二段57巷12-2號
Price: 3,900 NTD (drinks not included)
Visited on: April 2022
I’d been hearing about this extraordinary Italian private dining called MO. Lab in Tainan, but given how it seemed impossibly difficult to book, it didn’t even cross my mind to attempt. So it was like cake dropping from the sky when our friends A & S invited us to join them for a dinner there. It turned out that it’s a tradition to celebrate their son’s birthday at MO. Lab each year…lucky little person!
And just a few weeks before our dinner, Liz from Taster happened to put up an interview with Oscar, the chef and co-owner of MO. Lab, on her podcast channel. It was absolutely riveting to hear about Oscar’s career leap from being a diplomat in the Vatican to joining the legendary kitchens of Niko Romito. So it was with great expectations and curiosity that I stepped into MO. Lab on this balmy spring night in April…
The space, tugged inside a small, nondescript alleyway, consists of a lounge area and a dining room, mainly taken up by a large square table that seats 10-12 people. We were greeted by Oscar’s girlfriend Marcela (the M in “MO”), who was in charge of service. Oscar was mostly buried in the kitchen (it’s just him and one other staff cooking), but with each dish, he would emerge to explain what’s in front of us, and that was a treat in and of itself. He had a way of speaking that’s logical yet evocative, highlighting the essentials without being verbose, though he’d gladly explain more if you were to pry. I couldn’t help to think that his previous training as a diplomat played a part in his excellent communication skills.
Cooking is a lot about muscle memory, but it can be very cerebral as well. It certainly seemed like Oscar’s way of cooking is a deliberate thought process, each decision a conscious choice – whether to use Barbera Lorenzo #3 or #5 olive oil, for example, or whether to substitute partially with a neutral grape seed oil in a dish that’s particularly delicate. Here is an account of that evening’s menu, a spring affair that’s gentle, expressive, and full of hope:
Benvenuto:
Veal carpaccio, bone marrow mayonnaise, taco.
Sesame crisp, tuna confit, marinated lemon sauce.
Zucchini slice, caviar.
Salmonetta, salsa pistacchio, prezzemolo e nero di seppia.
Sakura-masu, or cherry salmon, was brined and slightly torched so that underneath its crispy skin, the beautiful orange-pink flesh remained barely cooked and exceedingly tender. Plated with pistachio sauce, squid ink sauce, stir-fried mushrooms for texture, baby leaves of various herbs, and a drizzle of hazelnut oil. Served lukewarm on purpose, mild like spring itself.
Asparagi Bianchi, prosciutto et Passito.
White asparagus, plump and dripping with flavor, on a puddle of sabayon made from white asparagus puree and passito sweet wine. Blanketed in spiced bread crumbs, fresh leaves, edible flowers, and a jelly made of clarified white asparagus and ham consommé, so delicate it seemed held together by little more than a wish.
Lumache, calamaretti, vellutata di porri e spuma d’alloro.
A duo of white jade snail and firefly squid in a warm, thick sauce of scallions (using only the white, sweeter part), potato, and rabbit stock. Juniper berries and bay leaves-infused milk foam, a sprinkle of bay leaf powder and cornflower petals – a small detail that conjured up images of springtime in Italy.
Anguilla, ABTM, lentisco e agrumi.
The temperature of the dishes had been progressively increasing, reaching a crescendo with this one. Taiwanese white eel brushed with a sauce of fennel bulb, orange juice, and two types of balsamic vinegar (aged 6 years and 12 years) from Modena, then grilled to perfection. It nestled in a bed of stir-fried spinach and horseradish puree, alongside nasturtium leaves and a few dots of Extravecchio balsamic vinegar, aged for at least 25 years. Curiously, the flavors of this dish were reminiscent of Japanese grilled eel, though achieved through a completely different set of seasonings.
On a side: a creamy stock made from eel’s head and liver, with a top note of mastic and citrus floating above it all.
Riso Acquerello, pomodorini e capperi.
This was perhaps the most memorable dish for me this evening. It looked deceptively simple – a puddle of rice on the plate, probably a cream-based risotto judging from its color, but the first bite stopped me cold. The intense acidity was unmistakable, but where were the tomatoes?
It turned out that Oscar had clarified the tomato soup (made from four tomato varieties) to remove all traces of red, retaining only its flavor to cook Acquerello rice with. He then added butter, pecorino cheese, and mascarpone to create emulsification, before drizzling Barbera Lorenzo #3 olive oil and powdered capers for yet another layer of acidity. Each grain of rice had soaked up the intense and the mellow, each bite left me eager for the next. An extraordinary risotto.
Tortelli, baccala e vongole.
Handmade tortelli stuffed with clams and salted cod, the latter of which had been whipped to an airy, fluffy texture. The pasta dough was made with a mix of 00 flour (a finely ground Italian flour) and duro (durum/semolina wheat) flour, hence the yellowish hue and more granular texture. The sauce, clam and chicken stock emulsified with olive oil, was particularly luscious, I would’ve loved a small cup of this to sip and savor on the side.
Germano reale, foglie wasabi, te nero e verza.
A beautiful sliver of mallard. Brined, seared, drizzled with hot oil, roasted, smoked, rested…a prolonged cooking process to retain moisture in the meat. Served with marinated wasabi leaves and an acidic port wine sauce to bring out the sweetness of the duck.
On its side, savoy cabbage wrapping a confit of mallard leg and innards, minced chicken and mushrooms, drizzled with a complex sauce of mallard stock, porcini, morels, Darjeeling, and black truffle, resulting in a rounded, 3-dimensional flavor that seemed to take on a voluminous shape on the palate.
Gelato Fior di Latte, granella di cacao.
Milk (from Tokachi, Hokkaido) and vanilla gelato. The mini cone, made with brown sugar instead of white, had a darker color, extra crisp texture, and alluring aroma. A delightful bite.
Profiterole, rabarbaro, pera candita e zenzero.
Cream puff filled with vanilla semifreddo, rhubarb ice-cream, candied ginger, candied pear, drizzled with a syrup of raspberry, blood orange, elderflower, and spiced ginger crisp on top.
To end the meal…a trio of sweet bites:
Raspberry red wine tuile, basil, white chocolate mousse.
Ginger cookie with cream cheese.
Manjari hazelnut chocolate truffle.
Feeling thankful at the end of the meal, for Oscar’s cooking and Marcela’s hosting, for friends who made this dinner happen, for our little Emilia who, at barely 1.5 years old, managed to power through an almost 4 hour meal. It’s certainly the kind of evening I’d wish to experience again, if not soon then perhaps when the next spring time comes around…
